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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672620">And Then We Thrive</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerning/pseuds/kerning'>kerning</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dedue Molinaro-centric, Fluff, M/M, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Trans Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:00:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,156</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672620</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerning/pseuds/kerning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dedue and Dimitri travel to Duscur and spend time together as a family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And Then We Thrive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started out as a need to write about Dedue and peek into their family so about 5k words later here it is!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                Dedue’s eyes will not shut. He tracked the filigree pattern on the bed curtains, their swirls and whorls sure as the sea which carried them forth to Duscur. Nestled in shadow and shade, a harbor within a harbor, outside their bed lay suffused by the low lit sconces of the cabin. In the dark came safety. And in such safety, he lay still, the curtains were drawn, the mattress firm but not over so. Next to him, Dimitri’s breathing evened in sleep. Minutes surely passed, but his cumbersome bothers seemed an ensnarled tangle at the center of his worry. But what be there worry?</p><p>                None.</p><p>                Yet he followed those threads, strands rough from frequent use hand over hand, a toiled endeavor. In every instance he had travelled to Duscur, with each journey, distress and hope which seemed beggared from him smudged all memory. This time, it was not fear which markedly kept him awake. What reason have he be fearful? He searched, dredging silt then ore from every thought.</p><p>                Everyone he loved were present and accounted for on the ship. In worries absence, the hush of their quarters, the lull of the sea, its constant lurch, its ebb and flow cast Dedue floating and suspended. Dimitri, curled sleep-warm against his back, draped an arm over his side as if shielding him from the enemy of the wooden wall behind them.</p><p>                There wasn’t any danger here.</p><p>                Altered but no less comforting in the confined space, nighttime rituals had been approached and navigated well in putting their children to bed. Though he feared when Roah had occupied much of the day with a pot of ginger tea and herbs, he’d settled, feared when Clarity might fuss—unable to weather the strange surroundings of the journey at nine months—they were each quieted with a story and a lullaby. He meant to cover Dimitri’s hand with his own. Nothing, without reaching they two first, would come to harm them.</p><p>                They were safe.</p><p>                Before Roah’s seasickness dulled his enthusiasm, he had been talkative, excitable even.</p><p>                As was he—time away from Fhirdiad, its machinations and the tedium of a court soon displaced relented to the promise of Duscur fields teeming with bloomed flowers in the turning season. A much needed time for leisure. Rest.</p><p>                Dedue breathed out, slow and steady. Gentle, so Dimitri might not wake, one by one he extricated from his grasp with all care. Though Dimitri stirred, breath warmed over his neck in staled mint, he had yet to cross the threshold into wakefulness and shifted further in his absence onto Dedue’s pillow, hair in part splayed over the silk and loose strands stuck to the side of his face as the curtain swept closed.</p><p>                A necessity his stature ill-accommodated yet managed regardless, in silent steps as an eager sentinel he paused before their bedroom door. Calm soothed as only proof could, his heart quieted as only proof could. He cracked the door open. Lamplight angled across the small room.</p><p>                Well and sound, Roah was tucked into his bed with his second favorite stuffed lion wrapped tight under his arm. In his son’s peaceful brow sickness faded unlike the healed scar pitting his cheek, half-pressed into the felted fur. Dedue put aside the awful memory of that day, that scar, which held no place here.</p><p>                Like a panacea, how earlier today reluctant relief had flooded Roah’s face then brought a dimpled smile as Dimitri fetched the little lion he’d stowed away as a backup for his left behind bear stuffy which was no doubt sitting vigil over Roah’s bed in Fhirdiad.</p><p><em>                Be he never without company. </em>Brushing back his twists, Dedue knelt and pressed a light kiss against his forehead before rearranging his blankets so he stayed warm.</p><p>                Clarity usually slept through the night but from her crib came a fussy whine unlike her usual burbles. To his surprise, she lay on her side, eyes wide open.</p><p>                “What are you doing awake?” Dedue said softly, reaching out to check her. But her tiny forehead wasn’t overwarm. The threat of a fever assuaged, he grazed her baby soft cheek and her attentions shifted. “Go back to sleep.”</p><p>                Whining, she wriggled onto her back, stretching out a single arm escaping the swaddle. How she managed to escape her blanket each time, Dedue could never fathom, a true marvel no matter how tightly they wrapped her. He must correct her. He caught her searching hand with a single finger, by the gods was she still so small.</p><p>                “Clary, what is wrong?” He freed her from her confines with one hand. At her dirty diaper, he shushed her. Her tiny grip and scrunched expression only deepened in severity, whines nearing pitch to true crying as he kneeled to grab for the diapers near her crib, retreating out of sight.</p><p>                “I have you, I’m here.” He laid a hand over her tummy, shushing her again. “You’ll wake your brother, you do not want to do that, right?” Not giving her time to weigh options, up and back down, Dedue fastened the fresh diaper and buttoned her back into her clothes. Unconvinced, her bright eyes affixed to his in the dark, however there came her settling. Yet as she listened to his voice her legs swung with far too much energy. “And I see he hasn’t sea legs like you.</p><p><em>                It is nighttime and that means sleep.</em> <em>You’re so lively tonight</em>.” Though he spoke quietly in Duscur as he lifted her out of the crib, her ascent waylaid his intention to tire her out, grip on Clarity secure as she wriggled at his noisy cheek kiss. Her delighted giggle filled him with a silent gratitude to the earth god he lived upon solid ground, for the sea god still held his ire until they reached shore.</p><p>                There really wasn’t enough space to rock her in his arms, much less carve grooves in the floor from pacing the room. He rubbed her back. “Come on, let’s take this energy elsewhere—what say you?” Dedue considered her. Clarity considered him. Her hand plopped on the corner of his mouth. He nodded. “Good.”</p><p>                Safely away with Roah still sleeping on the other side, he shut the door and returned to their quiet cabin. “Tonight is special, for once Dimitri isn’t snoring.”</p><p>                “Because I never snore.”  Dimitri’s rough voice carried its full confidence—its full lies—emanating behind the bed curtain. It slowly parted. “Ah, is she well, is she hungry, should I wake Solana?” Solana was their wet-nurse and Dimitri rose to a sit before Dedue could allay his concern.</p><p>                “No need. She warranted a diaper change, but she’s content for now.” He indulged Clarity’s outstretched arms towards Dimitri, placing her just within his reach. Turning away as he poured water into the washbasin, Dedue caught a glimpse of Clarity held close, her fingers buried into Dimitri’s unkempt braid as she babbled. His heart warmed.</p><p>                “Oh I see, then that is quite fine,” Dimitri said though his tone took on the particular cadence he used when speaking to Clarity. “My Clarity, are you excited to travel to Duscur? It is a beautiful place, where Papa was born, yes? And you will have lots of wonderful memories there, but not if you don’t sleep.” He hummed, less a tune and more in thought. “You leave me no choice.”</p><p>                Dedue dried his hands on a towel, the sound of Dimitri falling against the bed overlapping Clarity squealing as he turned and found her raised over and up, at the edges of Dimitri’s arm span.</p><p>                “What are you doing?” Down.</p><p>                Then up. “This seemed to work at wearing me out when I was little.” The corners of Dimitri’s mouth lifted alongside Clarity.</p><p>                “I see.” He sat down beside them, bemused and terribly fond as he ventured an honest question. “And you remember this?”</p><p>                “H—well, no.” A little of his expression dimmed. “I suppose I could lift boulders, and walk then, but is this not the next best thing?”</p><p>                Clarity, their darling stone, if her happiness were a fair measure could only agree as she kicked and smiled. “Ah-da!”</p><p>                “Dimitri, it seems more exercise for you.”</p><p>                Dimitri considered, his cheeks puffed out as if mimicking the comparable strain of hauling a horse and cart as he slowly set her down against his stomach. “I thought she’d settle after the exhaustion kicked in.” He gazed at her upturned face, her fists balled into his sleepshirt, determinedly wide-awake. “Aren’t you sleepy?” In the fakest imitation of such Dedue had ever borne witness, Dimitri yawned open-mouthed. “So tired.”</p><p>                Truly, Dimitri was prone to burning a candle at both ends if it meant procuring enough light to continue toiling, attending upon paperwork more nights than not. The burnt scent of cheap tallow had clung to him in those small hours. Faithless in such dear tasks granted to another, faithful by name and action, Dedue collected Dimitri as if he were still a knight making rounds though the redefined route led to their shared quarters.</p><p>                “Is it not time to sleep?” Apparently his husband wasn’t immune to tactics against his own daughter, but this time the yawn came suppressed, far more believable neatly tucked into his shoulder by force of habit. And then Dimitri’s eye slipped shut in feigned sleep. Rest came in variances. Clarity must have took after him in this regard.</p><p>                But she wasn’t fooled. Pushing up on her hands she scooted over Dimitri to peer into his face. At her unimpressed glance Dedue smoothed his expression neutral yet surrendered as Clarity poked at Dimitri’s mouth, revealing a chipped tooth.</p><p>                Laughing outright at Dimitri’s capitulating groan, Dedue snorted. “It does not seem to be working.” A witness to such falsities, she had taken after him as well.</p><p>                Her tiny prodding fingers next chased for his nose and Dimitri twisted away. “Whatever am I to do with you?” He play-bit at her wandering arm before sprinkling her with kisses. Accusations turned onto him next. “You know my love, perhaps the ruse would’ve succeeded if you joined me.” Dimitri carried them both into a sit, Clarity occupying herself with the decorative buttons at his collar.</p><p>                “Between the two of us, the opera would have you first.”</p><p>                Felt more than heard, Dimitri’s laugh undulated against his shoulder supporting the weight of his resting head. His voice was distant and awed. “Isn’t Papa funny, Clary?” At her name, she looked up and smiled, showing off the tiny pearls of her teeth. Just the four. Dimitri might have been smiling too. “Did we not sing to you and read you stories tonight?”</p><p>                She might find it hard to regain sleep in a new place, Dedue supposed aloud, but the brightness of her face dimmed not a whit for their dual turmoil.</p><p>                “If such gambits worked in Fhirdiad, it may work here.” Dimitri mused as he rummaged through a storage trunk with one hand until understanding revealed itself in the form of a familiar scarf. “There’s only one cure for a thirst for adventure.”</p><p>                After donning his dressing robe, Dedue caught the scarf, a knot behind, slipped fabric shoulder over shoulder until  Dimitri plucked at the knot at his back, tightening the baby wrap. Once secured inside, Clarity nestled against his chest, close enough to press a kiss to the top of her head and sure as his heartbeat.</p><p>                As they made their way up to the deck, past the battalions quarters, Dimitri, only a step behind, whispered mischievous and good-natured. “If this doesn’t work I’ll read her the latest proposal from Gloucester.” No idle threat, that would do it.</p><p>                One final tread up they entered into the enveloping night, lush as velvet embroidered with the moon on full display and stars puncturing the welkin in patterns, constellations. Clean sea salt brine permeated his every inhale. These moons of the year promised the cold slackened, breath of misted fog traded for the intangible.</p><p>                From the stern, Dimitri leaned against the railing, head bent at an angle too near and deep to penance. More to himself, downward as his gaze the glimmering water rendered to the ships path.  “We’ve not abandoned all hope.” Trapped against his collar, dull gold coaxed free by the breeze, the tendrils drifted and fell again.</p><p>                All the same, Dimitri craned his neck to look at the stars.</p><p>                Dedue held back, watching Clarity whose curiosity led her raise her head, fascinated by the porcelain sails billowed full in the wind, her surroundings mottled new in the night. Dedue shielded Clarity from the slight chill by stretching the fabric patterned in soft geometric whorls akin to her blonde hair over her head. She seemed to settle, content. He rocked her side-to-side, heeding the ebb and flow of the sea, and moved in its pattern, waves an aide in natural unity.</p><p>                After a long moment, Dimitri’s gaze cast over at once to them, where then he came away from the railing. “It isn’t particularly exciting. Nor am I sure if it is true,” he began, losing the pallor of an unknown memory exchanged for something even. Kind. “But do you see that brightest star overhead, Clarity?” She followed his pointing finger with an escaping hand, the other wound tight in the fabric of Dedue’s robe, allowing her reach for him. Dimitri leant close, attempted to guide her vision upwards but her focus dwindled, narrowed to him alone. “My little blue sea star…” He murmured, his fingertips coursed over the tufted curls escaping her makeshift cowl. He tucked her arm within the wrap.</p><p>                In retelling of the Goddess of Fódlan and Her home on a distant star, Dimitri embellished, not quite the same tale once rote and dry within the monastery walls, recited often in its brand of faith by believers, past let wash over Dedue as before the memory of night skies riddled with stars much the same, pretending he understood the shapes his own father inscribed in the air—clouds were easier—yet for now Dedue squinted up at the star, steadfast in its season. He touched her dangling foot.</p><p>                And lulled by their united presence, her eyelids drooped half-mast. Indeed, for that he shared in without words gladness.</p><p> </p><p>❊❊❊❊</p><p> </p><p>                “There, that’s enough.”</p><p>                Chunks of turnips and carrot spun in the broth swirled by Roah’s two-handed grip upon the big wooden spoon in an overzealous circle. Held tight so his son could manage a clear view of the heavy iron cookpot, Dedue set him down. He seemed better now, on Duscur soil, far from the sea. It wouldn’t do for him to overexert himself.</p><p>                “Good job. You’ve helped.” Dedue said and such simple praise caused his son to beam at him. “Now take your breakfast. I will be there in a moment.”</p><p>                “Can’t I crack the eggs?” Roah’s objection formed in an instant but he wouldn’t allow it.</p><p>                “You’ve done enough. Go sit at the table.”</p><p>                He needn’t see his face for the pout as he left, shoulders drooping an obvious tell. Relief, comfort came in each open emotion Roah let slip. Proof of progress. The warmth of the hearth suffused Dedue’s every action.</p><p>                Scented with authentic Duscur spices, the kitchen, this kitchen was as homely as it came. Dried herbs strung from the ceiling, a collection of pots the same, more in a cabinet. A dash of cinnamon. The ice chest near empty but either the market or lines set in the nearby lake remedied such a predicament. Herbs perfumed the air as their essence crumbled against his fingertips, the scent lingering on them. He finished another dish. The larder was satisfactory in its preparation, from its stores cobbled together their meals for the day. Chopped and trimmed, chunks of seasoned meat both dried and fresh were added to the now simmering pot. At peace like this. Rare but most welcome.</p><p>                There was no comparison. Clarity had awakened and smiled at him upon rising. The first, spared to him. Happiness welled in his chest. Remained there, just there. Steam from the pot wafted sense memory of his own parents. He took a deep breath. They were here, with them. Bittersweet as it might be, when the time came, each bite of supper would recall and form another memory with his family, precious for its history.</p><p>                Joyful. A joined history, for snug in its basket, proofing bread curved in its slow rise beneath a tea towel. No doubt these walls met Dimitri who puttered into the kitchen this early morning, lingering vigor laid into what he had once confessed as meditative kneading. Dinner would be quite fine.</p><p>                But at present, Dedue laid thick slices of cheese over Dimitri’s portion of eggs nestled in their bed of rich tomato sauce. Their accompaniment in slightly stale market bread must suffice until Dimitri’s efforts manifested into a dense if not heartfelt loaf of bread.</p><p>                The door swung open.</p><p>                “Clarity’s entertained for now,” Dimitri said. “But who knows how long that may last.” He left the door ajar. Beyond it their children’s voices carried.</p><p>                Half an ear attuned to their well-being, they prepared the rest of breakfast in companionable silence. Dimitri upended a dish of dried fruit into Roah’s porridge bowl. A chaste kiss, navigating the kitchen. Dedue portioned their breakfast and gathered three mugs of cider cooled from the cellar’s depths.</p><p>                Once they finished, Dimitri appraised the spread. “It looks and smells delicious,” he enthused, though the unspoken lament of his lack of taste Dedue heard all the same. Perhaps he wished. But he needn’t tarry on an immutable fact and so neither did he. “If I may have your pardon in keeping you from your adoring audience. Chief among them as I am.” Such affection not in usual words but action moved.</p><p>                They parted. Phantom pressure lingered against his lips like a promise. A kept one.</p><p>                Dimitri took up Roah’s breakfast in hand, partway in the door’s threshold. “No magic at the table.” Over his head, Dedue caught a glimpse of Roah scrambling up from the floor with Clarity, the wink of his magic gone out within the focusing toy to land inactive beside her while Dimitri set down Roah’s place, theirs following suit afterward. “Come on, I’ll get her, settle in.”</p><p>                Roah sat down at the round table, Clarity lifted into her feeding chair beside Dimitri before they said prayers. Roah looked from Clarity’s cut up oatcakes to his porridge, one reluctant spoonful trawled through the bowl before entering his mouth. </p><p>                “Is it not to your liking?” Dedue amended, drawing on all Roah wouldn’t say aloud. “If you were eating Clarity’s breakfast, you would find it quite bland.”</p><p>                “Yes, Papa, I understand.”                                                                                                             </p><p>                Clarity crammed a strip of oatcake into her mouth with one chubby fist. Dimitri shoveled in a hearty redolent bite, cheese pull trailing from his dish. Roah swapped direction.</p><p>                “I’m big.”</p><p>                Anticipating such, Dedue nodded. “Yes, and as inclined as I am to agree,” he admitted, “your stomach has had a weary time of late. It is also best you state your intentions outright.”</p><p>                Roah gnawed the inside of his cheek before speaking. “May I have a bite, please?”</p><p>                Dimitri paused mid-chew. “It is only egg white and cheese,” he said, ‘<em>what’s the harm?’</em> glance cast his way once boding trouble now a mutual understanding. “But if you still wish it, hand me your spoon.”</p><p>                With the utmost care Dimitri could manage he extracted a pale cheesy sample.</p><p>                “Thanks, Dad.” Roah, brow scrunched at the taste but in the end satisfied, tucked into his own dish with certainty.</p><p>                In a happy shriek and babbles, Clarity interspersed her own commentary, testing her voice.</p><p>                “Is that so?” Dimitri brushed the smattering of crumbs off her cheek. A futile effort.</p><p>                Like this, they ate together, the conversation and morning winding away slow in its contentment, honeyed and sweet to tarry in it. Sticky. Clarity’s linen pinafore trailed both crumbs and streaky remnants of stewed peach-currants. Her complete mastery of spoons lay dormant yet.</p><p>                “Have you seen Solana?” Dimitri asked while he guided a spoonful of peach-currants to her waiting mouth. Most of it went in. “I couldn’t find a note.”</p><p>                He had not since she fed Clarity and said as much, but Roah spoke up. “She told me I couldn’t come with to the market.”</p><p>                “The market,” Dimitri echoed. Long since tinged by suspicions, doubled at their arrival for the letter awaiting in Annette’s looped script, Dimitri had gained a particular tightness in his expression until it faded somewhat at the addressee. At present, the market was a fine place to tend upon such pressing correspondence.</p><p>                “We are not Annie,” Dedue said. Perhaps he wasn’t unfounded in the inkling Annette fancied Solana. Nor alone in the thought, Dimitri’s eye catching a conspiratorial gleam. “We will go to the market together later.”</p><p>                Roah perked up at the prospect as he finished his breakfast. He cleared plates, clatter a backdrop to Dimitri cleaning Clarity’s hands with a damp towel before extricating her from her pinafore, the outfit beneath unsullied despite her mess. Roah took his dishes to the kitchen.</p><p>                He had to be quick. He leant forward. “Distract Roah while we are out. I will purchase his gift.”</p><p>                For moons from the castle balconies Roah had taken to watching kites both feathered and fabric with such equal longing he needn’t confess anything. In the end they agreed he was too young, too kind, for falconry. Perhaps in a few years. Indeed, Dedue could have indulged him with a kite celebrating the turning season from the Duscur quarter. But he had not. All worth the wait for the surprise.</p><p>                “Certainly.” Dimitri tapped her back, a tiny hiccup of a burp followed course. “That was a good one. He’s going to love it.” For a brief moment he winced, grinding tension at his jaw but shook his head, answering the yet unasked. “Nothing fresh air won’t fix.”</p><p>                And so he took him at his word.</p><p> </p><p>❊❊❊❊</p><p> </p><p>                As a family they walked through the copse of trees in search of a clearing. Roah had hugged them each in turn for his gift. The same fervor in his grip remained where the oversized kite tucked under his arm, kite’s tassels still bound tight from the market stall yet skimming the ground every so often. Roah stumbled.</p><p>                “Steady,” Dimitri warned, offering his hand. “With one misstep you may take flight.”</p><p>                “Really?” Unfazed, Roah took his hand and practically skipped with a bounce in each step. “Let’s take Clary—won’t that be fun, Clary? We’ll go way up high!” Such an imagination. “I’ll be, be even taller than Papa!”</p><p>                “Is that so? You want to go into the sky with your kite?” Over Roah’s head, Dimitri shared a glance with him. “We shall see how it flies without riders first.”</p><p>                Roah cheered. Clarity echoed with equal enthusiasm from her carrier as they picked their way through the underbrush. Dimitri made practiced silly faces at her, giggles only spurring him on.</p><p>                “It will not be much farther, see how the sunlight weaves through the trees? Besides…” Dedue said, relief in his son’s persistent excitement seldom waning in spite of his grand, dangerous plan. “You need not fly when you can safely exceed my height on the ground.”</p><p>                With a gentle hoist Roah sat astride his shoulders, the branches sparse and high enough to clear them. Held secure, they stepped into a grassy clearing, the breadth of the kite over his head forming a kind of sunshade. A shaky one. “Hm, what do you think, does this appear a good spot?”</p><p>                “Yes!” Roah, with a slight wobble hopped down, examining the kite. “Oh, I got it dirty.”</p><p>                “We can’t allow that.” He brushed off the lingering bits of dirt Roah hadn’t swept away. “No harm done.”</p><p>                Taking one side then the other, he helped Roah unfurl the kite tails, golden threaded tassels affixed to each point of the sparrow-shaped kite. Wings outstretched, decorative trim of geometric designs coalesced onto the bird’s back, their linen rectangles discerning one ideal—protection. <em>Protect your peace and your joy</em>. He passed the kite to his son.</p><p>                “Just as we explained. Back to the wind and let fly.” Dedue posed a question when Roah stood uncertain. “Do you want to cast it into the air or hold the lead?”</p><p>                “Cast!”</p><p>                Holding the tether, Dedue unspooled a length until they were quite far apart. A few paces from Roah, Dimitri had taken up in Dedue’s stead the blanket bag consisting of small toys and snacks lest anyone felt peckish. Roah, so eager, held with both hands his kite and waiting his cue, called out to Clary, unwrapped and positioned in Dimitri’s arms for an unimpeded view.</p><p>                On his tiptoes, Roah let go.</p><p>                Up and up, lifted by the breeze, a sparrow took flight. Eyes sparkling with wonder, Roah craned his neck as he tracked its ascent. A tug moored by his scarred hands, able, willing, sent the enchanting bird into a swoop. Trailing gold tassels glinted in the midday sun however, as fathers true attentions steadied to earth, basking in their enthrallment.</p><p>                “I want to try,” Roah said in such plainness as he ran across the grass, no meager portion of Dedue offered him the lead with pride. Gingerly, Roah held the tether which tugged at his arms after a strong breeze. “I want to go higher.”</p><p>                Roah’s requests blooming a joy in his heart, he guided him in this way.  </p><p>                “You made a beautiful choice,” Dimitri murmured, glance upwards as the kite twirled higher, gleaming golden upon a backdrop of sheer white clouds and clear blue. He readjusted Clarity on his hip, she intent on her brother, hands outstretched to join. “Ah, Clary wants to fly.”</p><p>                That too, settled in his chest, mute for all he could not quite express, present nevertheless.</p><p>                Dimitri knelt and guided Clary’s hand over the handle and Roah still held on, navigating the sky. A moment. A sharp crack. A gust.</p><p>                “My kite!” Roah cried, all of their attempts to catch the broken handle thwarted.</p><p>                The golden sparrow floated in the air, carried off by the wind before it spiraled like an odd falcon, diving beyond a nearby hill.</p><p>                “No, it’s gone!” Roah gave chase, they three trailing despite his shorter legs. He paused at the apex of the hill. “My kite! I see it!” He looked back as Dedue joined him. “Papa, come see—look!”</p><p>                The rolling knoll held at its base a meadow. Teeming with flowers. Swathes of colour dotted then blanketed the ground as they met in the middle. Heathery groundcover suffocated under variegated patches of wildflowers, stunning, thriving.</p><p>                Though not winded Dedue certainly stuttered over a breath. “I see it.”</p><p>                There, skittering to rest under a cluster of tall brilliant blue asters, the sparrow stilled its wings. Whole and sound. But Roah was already making his way down the hill towards his grounded kite.</p><p>                “Is it damaged?” Dimitri called out to his son. He hesitated a moment, his voice soft and half to himself as he muttered over not minding his own strength.</p><p>                Of this Dedue held his doubts. Not once had he ever come to harm. Nor Roah. He minded when it mattered. In this too, mattered.</p><p>                “I don’t think so.” After some scrutiny, solemn as it was worried, Roah lifted the kite carefully, treading a crooked path defined by hoary thistle and patches of clover as he returned. “But the handle’s broken.”</p><p>                “We can’t have that. It will fly again.” Dimitri assured. With one freed hand, he bent the metal back into place. “This pretty sparrow might not return if the lead be broken in places. We should check it for a proper inspection, and make certain. I need more than one set of hands or an eye for the task. Do you wish to assist me?"</p><p>                Roah nodded, eager as together they set out the blanket. They two unwound and examined every unspooled length of the tether for frays. As Dedue played with Clarity while they refashioned the coil, occupying her attentions, she crawled about, clover permeating a fresh and soft green scent beneath their little rectangle.</p><p>                He balanced, braced her with both hands. She tottered a few steps before dropping onto the blanket. One day, Clarity would walk without aid. And talk. What might she say? The future once meant an existence, nothing more. And that would be the end of it. All the gods keep him, to living, to what came next. Now he’d a future changed all the better. Such a family, such a love.</p><p>                “We’re almost done.” Dimitri said, patting Roah’s hair as they finished the task at hand.</p><p>                Dedue kneeled,  guiding Clarity so she might be to eye-level with the flowers. “Gently now.” After taking a tiny whiff, Clarity babbled, running her hands over the patch of lavender, moving them back and forth. “I agree, it is a nice smell.”</p><p>                Roah had abandoned his kite where Dimitri weighed it down by the handle itself on the blanket’s edge for peering at a particular flower. “Dad, I haven’t seen this one in Fhirdiad.”</p><p>                “Perhaps they do not take well to the greenhouse gardens.”</p><p>                Roah seemed to accept this. “I want to show this one to Clary! Papa, this one’s pretty, can I pluck it?” Roah ran over with the flower, leaving Dimitri behind. “Do you know what this one is?” Roah repeated after him as if committing it to memory like one of his spells.</p><p>                Clarity held the stem in her fist. The flower bowed. Clarity shook the delicate rattle, buds dangling over her face as mute bells. A few violet petals scattered on the breeze to delighted giggles.</p><p>                “No, Clary,” Roah said. “You hurt it.”</p><p>                “Be gentle.” Dedue tucked the mangled bloom behind her ear. “Kindness, Clary.” But she took to crawling about on the spread blanket, clambering over his outstretched leg to a tuft of fuzzy buds.</p><p>                “Aha, got you.” Dimitri scooped her up. At least he had the nerve to flush a little at her actions. “She only needed the lesson a bit earlier. Shall we dance?”</p><p>                Dimitri carried her in a circle within the crook of his arm, their hands linked. Roah rushed up half-clinging to Dimitri’s leg with cries of <em>me too</em> and a moment later they four are away, lead, follow surrendered for a silly endeavor, more a group hug but in thirds Dedue’s whole heart spun around him. He tilted his head back, and basked in the sun.</p><p>                The sun will also set.</p><p>                Building a life together, it is not easy. But his heart is full.</p><p>                Upon the return walk for dinner—Roah asking for meat pies so they might eat outside the next day, Clarity dozing against his heart, Dimitri’s hand callused and warm in his own—his heart filled to the brim overflowed, away and returned just the way he came, where connected and afforded such luxury, he grew roots.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The world doesn’t need any more miserable Dimidue, the world has surpassed the need for angst-ridden Dimidue, I demand Black boy joy! I love this little family quite a bit anyway, so if you’ve shared enjoyment all comments and/or kudos are appreciated!! Thanks for reading!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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